Fold Your Ego Quotes

During the year of 2015 stay grounded. How? Each night before you go to sleep, write a word/expression capturing a positive state of mind on a sheet of paper. Fold the paper in a V and prop it on your nightstand beside your bed so you will see it the first thing in the morning. When you wake up, look at the word, put the word into your mind and feel it/express it throughout the day, no matter what happens to you that day. Examples are: appreciation, look for the positive in others and events; happy, worthiness, creative, cheerful, forgiving, gratitude, letting go of your ego and focus on others, selfless, love, kindness, etc.

The Night Dances       A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable!   And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics?   Such pure leaps and spirals—— Surely they travel   The world forever, I shall not entirely Sit emptied of beauties, the gift   Of your small breath, the drenched grass Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies.   Their flesh bears no relation. Cold folds of ego, the calla,   And the tiger, embellishing itself——

Don't bother unpacking the rest," she said, tearing the lease in half. "I'm kicking you out now." She was almost as strong willed and stubborn as he was. But he had much better taste in furniture. He snorted a laugh. "I'd like to see you try." "I'm sure you would," she snapped. "It's probably the only way you can get a woman near you with that giant ego in the way." "I am hardly lacking for female companionship." Layla rolled her eyes in an overly dramatic fashion. "I'm not interested in hearing about your visits to the nail bar. I just want you gone." "It's not going to happen, sweetheart. I have the document in digital form, and the law on my side." "Family trumps the law." She folded her arms under her generous breasts. Sweat trickled down his back. Karen had nothing on this woman, even with her creative use of a toy blood pressure cuff. "Not in the real world. My attorney works upstairs. If you need further proof, I can ask him to join us and confirm that the lease is valid.

Nick's number waited impatiently on the screen, tapping its foot. I could press the red button to cancel the call. Without pressing anything, I set the phone down on my bedside table, crossed my arms,and glared at it. Good:Nick wouldn't think I was chasing him. Bad:Nick would die alone in his house from complications related to his stupendous wipeout.The guilt of knowing I could have saved his life if not for my outsized ego would be too much for me to bear.I would retreat from public life.I would join a nearby convent and knit potholders from strands of my own hair.No,I would crochet Christmas ornaments in the shape of delicate snowflakes.Red snowflakes! They would be sold in the souvenir shops around town.I would support a whole orphanage from the proceeds of snowflakes I crocheted from my hair.All the townspeople of Snowfall would tell tourists the story of Crazy Sister Hayden and the tragedy of her lost love. Or I could call Nick.Jesus! I snatched up the phone and pressed the green button. His phone switched straight to voice mail.Great,I hadn't found out whether he was dying,and if he recovered later,he would see my number on his phone and roll his eyes. Damage control: Beeeeep! "Hey,Nick,it's Hayden.Just,ah, wanted to know how a crash like that feels." Wait,I was trying to get him to call me back,right?He would not return my call after a message like that. "Actually just wondering whether you're ready to make out again and then have another argument." He might not return that call,either. "Actually,I remembered your mother isn't home,and I wanted to make sure you're okay.Please give me a call back." Pressed red button.Set phone on nightstand.Folded arms.Glared at phone. Picked it up. "Freaking stupid young love!" I hollered,slamming it into the pillows on my bed. Doofus jumped up, startled. Ah-ha.

What’s the matter, Freckles?” he said, pressing a light kiss to the tip of my nose. “What changed?” I blurted out. He drew back. “Changed?” “You seemed like you were trying to keep distance between us before, but after last night…” “I should get a medal for managing to keep my hands off you that long.” “It was only a few days,” I reminded him dryly. “Felt like a lifetime.” “So those first kisses… you liked them?” His eyes widened. “You thought that I didn’t?” “Well, after that you didn’t touch me.” “Shit,” he swore beneath his breath and ran a hand over his head. “I liked it too much. The sparks between us are so hot, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop. I was afraid I would scare you off. Thank God I did because you’re so innocent.” Innocent? Ugh. I folded my arms across my chest. “So what changed your mind?” His smile was sexy and filled with innuendo. “I realized you could handle the heat.” I still wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t tell him that. “Well, you are definitely hot.” He grinned. He had such a big ego. “How hot?” I shook my head. “So hot your touch leaves torch marks on my skin.” He whistled between his teeth. “Damn. I’m good.

You only like white guys?” “Stop that,” I say through gritted teeth. “What?” he says, getting all serious. “It’s the truth, ain’t it?” Mrs. Peterson appears in front of us. “How’s that outline coming along?” she asks. I put on a fake smile. “Peachy.” I pull out the research I did at home and get down to business while Mrs. Peterson watches. “I did some research on the hand warmers last night. We need to dissolve sixty grams of sodium acetate and one hundred millimeters of water at seventy degrees.” “Wrong,” Alex says. I look up and realize Mrs. Peterson is gone. “Excuse me?” Alex folds his arms across his chest. “You’re wrong.” “I don’t think so.” “You think you’ve never been wrong before?” He says it as if I’m a ditzy blond bimbo, which sets my blood to way past boiling. “Sure I have,” I say. I make my voice sound high and breathless, like a Southern debutante. “Why, just last week I bought Bobbi Brown Sandwash Petal lip gloss when the Pink Blossom color would have looked so much better with my complexion. Needless to say the purchase was a total disaster,” I say. He expected to hear something like that come out of my mouth. I wonder if he believes it, or from my tone realizes I’m being sarcastic. “I’ll bet,” he says. “Haven’t you ever been wrong before?” I ask him. “Absolutely,” he says. “Last week, when I robbed that bank over by the Walgreens, I told the teller to hand over all the fifties he had in the till. What I really should have asked for was the twenties ‘cause there were way more twenties than fifties.” Okay, so he did get that I was putting on an act. And gave it right back to me with his own ridiculous scenario, which is actually unsettling because it makes us similar in some twisted way. I put a hand on my chest and gasp, playing along. “What a disaster.” “So I guess we can both be wrong.” I stick my chin in the air and declare stubbornly, “Well, I’m not wrong about chemistry. Unlike you, I take this class seriously.” “Let’s have a bet, then. If I’m right, you kiss me,” he says. “And if I’m right?” “Name it.” It’s like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy’s ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I’m all too happy to be the one to do it.

I don’t know what to say.” My voice was raspy. “You don’t have to say anything. The medics already cleaned and took care of these.” “No,” I said, still holding on to his hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for saving my life. Again.” “Stop thanking me,” he ground out. “I have to,” I said, looking straight into his eyes. “If you hadn’t been there…” My sentence trailed away. We both knew what would’ve happened. “But I was,” he said softly. “About that…” I began, wetting my lips. “Why were you there?” “I needed to talk to you about something.” “What?” He withdrew his hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “About this.” It was a plain white piece of paper, the kind that anyone would use in a printer. I unfolded it, noticing there was some kind of writing on the inside. When I got to the last fold, I glanced up at Holt who was wearing a very grim expression. Clearly, whatever this was wasn’t good. I pulled it open and stared down, my brain not really comprehending what it saw. I had to read the line over three times before I really got what it was saying. My stomach clenched. My hands trembled slightly. You should have let her die. “Where did you get this?” I finally asked. “It was on my truck when I left work earlier tonight.” The paper fluttered to the floor slowly, joining the towel by my feet. “So you got this before the fire tonight?” “Yes. It’s the reason I came looking for you.” “You didn’t say that.” “I figured you were dealing with enough at the moment.” “Did you tell the police?” He shook his head slowly. “But why?” “I wanted to talk to you first. See if you knew what it meant.” “It means someone wants me dead!” I shouted. My voice seemed to echo through the hallway. “You’re not going to die,” he growled. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, looking frantically around. “I need to go.” I spun around to rush into the living room, but the towel was tangled around my feet and I tripped, falling toward the floor. Holt caught me around the waist, pulling me back so I was up against the solid wall of his body. The heat of him was delicious and it radiated around my fear-chilled body. “You’re not going anywhere,” he rumbled in my ear. I struggled against him, but it was stupid. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds, easily, and was likely a foot taller than me. If he didn’t want to let me go, then I was pretty much stuck in his embrace. I slumped against him. “I’m putting you in danger by being here.” “You’re in more danger when I’m not around.” I couldn’t stop my snort. “There goes that ego of yours again.” His chuckle vibrated my ear. Chill bumps raced over my scalp. “All I’m saying is that clearly this guy is a pyro. My job is fire. You’re better off here than alone.” “But what about you?” “You let me worry about me.” I tried to wiggle out of his embrace so I could look at him. He only loosened his hold enough to allow me to spin in his arms. I had to tip my head back so I could stare up at him. “Do you have a death wish?” “I’m not going to die. Especially since life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.” His fingers flexed against my hip.

When you first get up, say your prayer of protection and then visualize in you minds eye claiming your sword of power, your golden bubble of protection that you create yourself with the power of your own mind and heart. Put on your self-love, maybe by putting a red rose in your heart. Visualize your attunement to GOD and the Masters by seeing your Antakarana or tube of light from your heart chakra back to GOD. Put on your Melchizedek/Christ/Buddha thinking and see yourself getting rid of all negative ego thinking. Visualize the Three-Fold Flame of Love/Wisdom and Power burning bright in your heart!

In review, we have the universal grace, wisdom, love and will that will be imprinted into the core of your being, along with corresponding universal energy flows that are perfect for your matrix, so to speak. This will serve to allow each person to stand in the truth of their mastery. Then a protective shield will be placed around you, which is in harmonic vibration of the love of all life, and non-separateness. Djwhal Khul referred to grace as standing alone in the crown and the three-fold flame of love, wisdom, and power standing together.

thepsychchic chips clips ii If you think of yourself instead as an almost-victor who thought correctly and did everything possible but was foiled by crap variance? No matter: you will have other opportunities, and if you keep thinking correctly, eventually it will even out. These are the seeds of resilience, of being able to overcome the bad beats that you can’t avoid and mentally position yourself to be prepared for the next time. People share things with you: if you’ve lost your job, your social network thinks of you when new jobs come up; if you’re recently divorced or separated or bereaved, and someone single who may be a good match pops up, you’re top of mind. This attitude is what I think of as a luck amplifier. … you will feel a whole lot happier … and your ready mindset will prepare you for the change in variance that will come … 134-135 W. H. Auden: “Choice of attention—to pay attention to this and ignore that—is to the inner life what choice of action is to the outer. In both cases man is responsible for his choice and must accept the consequences.” Pay attention, or accept the consequences of your failure. 142 Attention is a powerful mitigator to overconfidence: it forces you to constantly reevaluate your knowledge and your game plan, lest you become too tied to a certain course of action. And if you lose? Well, it allows you to admit when it’s actually your fault and not a bad beat. 147 Following up on Phil Galfond’s suggestion to be both a detective and a storyteller and figure out “what your opponent’s actions mean, and sometimes what they don’t mean.” [Like the dog that didn’t bark in the Sherlock Holmes “Silver Blaze” story.] 159 You don’t have to have studied the description-experience gap to understand, if you’re truly expert at something, that you need experience to balance out the descriptions. Otherwise, you’re left with the illusion of knowledge—knowledge without substance. You’re an armchair philosopher who thinks that just because she read an article about something she is a sudden expert. (David Dunning, a psychologist at the University of Michigan most famous for being one half of the Dunning-Kruger effect—the more incompetent you are, the less you’re aware of your incompetence—has found that people go quickly from being circumspect beginners, who are perfectly aware of their limitations, to “unconscious incompetents,” people who no longer realize how much they don’t know and instead fancy themselves quite proficient.) 161-162 Erik: Generally, the people who cash the most are actually losing players (Nassim Taleb’s Black Swan strategy, jp). You can’t be a winning player by min cashing. 190 The more you learn, the harder it gets; the better you get, the worse you are—because the flaws that you wouldn’t even think of looking at before are now visible and need to be addressed. 191 An edge, even a tiny one, is an edge worth pursuing if you have the time and energy. 208 Blake Eastman: “Before each action, stop, think about what you want to do, and execute.” … Streamlined decisions, no immediate actions, or reactions. A standard process. 217 John Boyd’s OODA: Observe, Orient, Decide, and Act. The way to outmaneuver your opponent is to get inside their OODA loop. 224 Here’s a free life lesson: seek out situations where you’re a favorite; avoid those where you’re an underdog. 237 [on folding] No matter how good your starting hand, you have to be willing to read the signs and let it go. One thing Erik has stressed, over and over, is to never feel committed to playing an event, ever. “See how you feel in the morning.” Tilt makes you revert to your worst self. 257 Jared Tindler, psychologist, “It all comes down to confidence, self-esteem, identity, what some people call ego.” 251 JT: “As far as hope in poker, f#¢k it. … You need to think in terms of preparation. Don’t worry about hoping. Just Do.” 252

The priest set the flask down on the step and folded his hands. "For the sin of lust you have confessed, mon fils," he said in an easy tone, "you are contrite, n'est-ce-pas?" Vitor closed his eyes and saw hers before him, sparkling like stars. "Yes." "For your penance I give you a novena to our Blessed Mother and the task of seeing your brother well matched to a woman who will bring him to heel." "Only that?" Vitor lifted a brow. "Father, you are too lenient." The priest drew a cross in the air above his brow. "Ego te absolve a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti." "Amen." -Denis & Vitor